Chapter 32

Thirty-Two

T he clock in the church tower welcomed the noon hour. Philippa threw off her coverlet. Staying in bed all day proved to be more difficult than she had imagined it would be. Partially because Grandfather kept sending maids to check on her. She dressed in a simple day dress she often wore at home and wound her hair into a twist at the nape of her neck.

Aunt Healand sat in the morning room at her desk. "Are you feeling better?"

"My head still aches."

"What of your heart?"

She'd said nothing about her conversation with Michael the night before. "What do you mean?"

"I heard from the butler that a very disgruntled Lord left the house before his fifteen minutes were over." Aunt Healand moved to a small couch and patted the spot next to her.

"Sometimes I forget how much is noted by your staff." Not to mention reported.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"There is nothing to talk about. I released him from our understanding before his name was also damaged." Phil sunk into the closest chair.

"Very gallant of you. Did he want to be released?"

"He will see the wisdom of it." At least, she hoped he would. Michael didn't see the world as others did, although he tried his hardest.

Aunt Healand's lips pinched together. "Hmmm. Have you eaten yet today? The maid said you didn't touch your tray."

"Is everything I do in this house reported to you?"

"Only those things that give the staff occasion to worry. No one has ever reported to me about what novel you are reading or if you had butter or jam on your scone."

"What a relief." Phil didn't mask the sarcasm in her tone.

"Shall I order tea?"

"You might as well. We must discuss my return to Kellmore Manor." As much as she was loath to admit staying in London was no longer an option. There would be little chance for her to avoid the marriage her father planned.

A day and half. Time had never dragged on as slowly as it had since Philippa ended their courtship. Invitations for upcoming events sat on the corner of Michael's desk. He'd already relayed his acceptances; now he dreaded going. At least tonight, like last night, he could sit in the House of Lords and listen as men discussed the upcoming vote. No one would know his assumed attention masked thoughts of his own.

Perhaps there would be something diverting at White's. Before Michael finished clearing his desk, his mother entered the room.

"There you are. I've had a note from Edward. Deborah is in terribly low spirits, and he wonders if it might be within our means to send them back to the country early."

"The journey would take more than two days. Is she up to it?"

Lady Endelton frowned. "Not that distance, at least not for several weeks. Lord Godderidge's holdings are no closer."

"I am off to White's. I shall ask Richard if he knows of anything I might let within a day's easy drive."

"You are the best of sons and brothers." Lady Endelton patted Michael's cheek, an action he endured only because she was his mother.

Since the sun was shining, Michael walked to White's, which would only take a few moments more than by hackney if the lanes were crowded. Two blocks from his destination, he spied a carriage marked with the crest of the Duke of Aylton.

The carriage stopped, and Richard stepped out. "You're off to White's earlier than usual."

"Matter of fact, I was in search of you."

Richard raised his brow as a reply. Briefly, Michael explained Deborah and Edward's loss. "Mother feels it would be best if she could leave the city to recuperate, but the arduous journey to our country home would be more than she could bear at present."

"I have a small lodge near Egham that I haven't visited for some time. It is completely closed up. If you have mind to leave this afternoon, we could arrive before sunset and see if it would suit."

"Splendid."

"I'm afraid we may have to spend the night at the inn, as we are likely to find the place in want of every comfort." The men stopped near the corner of an alleyway.

"Could we not stay at the house?" asked Michael.

"If it suits, I will hire people to prepare the home this very evening. Unless you are skilled with the broom and mop, we would be in the way."

"I am not opposed to helping where I am useful."

"I need to speak with a couple of men before I leave." Richard turned to the club. "Can you meet me in two hours? We can take my coach."

Michael agreed and turned back the way he came. A shadow in the alley caught his eye. Not a shadow. A man. The same who had called to Sir Lightwood yesterday morning. Michael shook his head; he had to be wrong.

"You are wanted in the parlor, Miss." The footman disappeared from the morning room's doorway as quickly as he appeared.

Phil set aside her book. She'd acquiesced to her Aunt's wishes and agreed to remain in London for another fortnight and had no need to pack. Therefore, all that was left was to read and answer mysterious summons from the staff.

Aunt was out making calls and taking what she called an "assessment of the damage." Grandfather would have called her to the study if he wanted to talk further.

The man standing in the parlor with his back to the door was easily recognizable.

"Father? Why are you here? Where is Alex?"

Her father turned. A large purple bruise covered the right side of his face. "Oh, my dear Philippa, your sister is why I have come. She needs you. We must leave at once!"

"What happened? Is she ill? Injured?"

"Yes." Father's words brought to life her every nightmare.

Phil rang the bell, and the same footman appeared. "Is my grandfather here?"

"His Lordship left a quarter hour ago."

"My sister has been injured, and I must go to her. Can you send a maid to my room?"

"Yes, miss."

Phil whirled to face her father. "I will be ready in a few minutes. Do I need any bandages or salves? Is Green with her?"

"Green is doing her best. Bring only a bag. You can have your trunks sent later. Do you need to tell anyone you are leaving?"

"The staff will inform my aunt and grandfather."

Father adjusted his coat. There was a rip in the sleeve. "What of your suitors?"

"I have none." Father didn't need to know the details. He would work out for himself soon enough that Lord Endelton was no longer a prospect.

"Hurry then."

Phil flew up the stairs. She debated about changing into suitable traveling clothes for only a minute. The dress she wore would suit well enough, and she could put the sturdier dress in her bag.

Father stood outside, next to his carriage. A balding gentleman conversed with him. As she hurried down the front steps, the gentleman left.

"Father, who was that?"

"No one you need to concern yourself about. Hurry, we must go."

Phil whispered a prayer as she sat in her father's well used coach, both for her sister and for the journey.

The lodge belonging to the Duke of Aylton, would have been better described as a cottage. Still, it was large enough for Deborah and Edward and a couple of servants. The elderly caretaker had not had it cleaned since his wife passed the previous summer. Each of the rooms showed signs of neglect. A crack crossed one of the panes in the parlor window. Richard added it to the list of minor repairs. Outside, flowers dotted the grounds, and the trees and lawn had been recently trimmed.

After a thorough cleaning, the place would be cozy and peaceful. "I believe my sister will enjoy it here."

"I asked the caretaker to bring in a staff. He assures me his daughter is a fastidious housekeeper." Richard left in search of the old man while Michael continued to inspect the house.

A large cat had taken up residence in the parlor. Michael assumed the cat kept the mice population down, as there were few signs of rodents. The cat eyed him suspiciously.

"Have no fears; you'll like my sister better than me as long as you don't give her your catches."

The cat yawned and closed his eyes.

In the corner, a spider resided on a large web. "You'll have to move out." He couldn't help but wonder at what Philippa's reaction to such a large web would be.

A square pianoforte lay under one of the dust covers. Deborah would enjoy that.

Richard's boots clicked on the dusty floor. "I am assured this place will be ready for occupancy by Saturday night."

The nearby village must hide an army of maids for such a prediction to be met. Not that Michael knew much of housekeeping.

Richard adjusted his gloves. "Come. Let us find rooms for the night and dine."

They'd timed their visit well. The last rays of sun disappeared in the western sky as they reached the inn. The proprietor gave them what he claimed were the two finest rooms. Michael's room was clean and had a large window. The boy who showed them to the room opened the sash high enough to let in a much-needed breeze.

Returning downstairs, the men found the dining room overflowing with travelers waiting for the post coach to continue its trip to London. Richard suggested a pub where he'd eaten the last time he visited the town. A rider passed them as they walked down the street. Michael was sure it was the same man from the alley this morning.

"I think we were followed from London." Michael nodded his head in the direction of the man.

Richard turned to look. "Nonsense. If he had followed us, he would have been to the cottage and come from the other direction."

Michael tried to dismiss the idea. There was no reason to follow either of them. He repeated the thought over and over again until he almost believed it.